


Mindscape of a Shining Prince

by AlacritiousEidolon (p_3a)



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alien Biology, Blindfolds, Body Horror, Dubious Consent, M/M, Partial Mind Control, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:10:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1711172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_3a/pseuds/AlacritiousEidolon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dregs of a spell cast long ago by Prince Anduin Wrynn's tormentor, the dread witch Onyxia, are brought to the forefront by the presence of another from her species. Together, Prince Wrathion and Anduin must destroy the spell once and for all - or Anduin's freedom may be permanently at risk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Spell Revealed

**Author's Note:**

> Noncon warning is for chapters 1 and 3. The noncon content IS EXPLICIT and you may wish to skip those chapters if such content bothers you.
> 
> Underage warning is for Chapter 8. The underage content IS NOT EXPLICIT but you still may wish to skip chapter 8 if such content bothers you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated Explicit. It contains explicit noncon, but no underage. It also contains mind control and xenobiology.

"Ah, Anduin Wrynn, what are you doing?"  
"Whatever you want me to..."

Wrathion _had_  been preparing to sleep, and now the Prince of Stormwind was clambering on top of him like so many drunken kittens. Wrathion had the vague intuition that something was wrong about this situation, but... Anduin kept pressing kisses to Wrathion's body, his hands caressing the dragon's hips, his sides, his--

Wrathion grabbed the Prince's hands and forced them to the side. "What are you _doing_?!" he hissed, a little more aggressively than before.  
He'd expected anger on Anduin's part, not the pitiful _whine_  that came from his throat. "Do you not like it?"  
Frustrated, Wrathion sat up properly, pushing Anduin away from himself. "We met _today_! I don't even _know_  you yet! What are you _doing_  and-- more importantly, **_why_**?"

Despite Wrathion's hostility, Anduin crawled towards him again, and Wrathion was forced to grab his face in both hands to stop him from coming any closer. Something was _very_  wrong, he knew; instead of tearing away from Wrathion's grasp as he ought to have, Anduin was nuzzling against his hands, humming and squirming. "I'm pleasing you... however you want"

"Anduin Wrynn, _why_?" Wrathion tightened his grip, pushing Anduin further away from himself. He was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion of what might be going on here, but he didn't like it at all, and hoped he was wrong. "You have every leave to _hate_  me after what my family did to yours!"

Anduin was still either blithe or purposefully ignorant to Wrathion's distress. "Because I want to do everything I can for you..." he frowned softly, reaching a hand forwards to try and sneak it under Wrathion's shirt. "Does it really matter?"

Wrathion blushed _deeply_ , but _yelped_  and grabbed Anduin's wrists, placing his hands pointedly on the outside of his shirt again. "It _does_  matter," he shouted now, "because my aunt was a prodigy of _mind control_! Do you _really_  not see what you're doing?!"  
"I see what I'm doing _plenty_  clearly, Wrathion." He frowned, moved his hands up to Wrathion's shoulders...

...then brought one back to knead at the back of the dragon's neck.

"Ahh-- _Anduin_ ," he practically melted, though frowning all the while, "you-- where did you-- _learn_  that," he breathed, "you shouldn't _know_  that, this is--"  
Anduin kneaded more firmly, digging his nails in to mimic a bite. One leg slid forward, between Wrathion's, and he tried to bring his face close, to kiss along the dragon's jaw.

Wrathion gave a soft noise of protest, but quietened, parting his legs and bringing his hands to rest in the small of Anduin's back. He tilted his face away almost obediently - "Wh-- what _would_  your-- ahh, your _father_  think..."  
"Who cares?" Anduin breathed against the dragon's jaw, nibbling there softly, before dipping down to his neck.

"That's-- mmmh... that doesn't sound like what I've heard of you at _all_..." Wrathion kept his face tilted away.  
"You've heard wrong, then," Anduin purred. He ground his hips up against Wrathion, keeping his grip on the scruff of his neck, his other hand roaming the dragon's body far more freely than Wrathion would like.

Besides the way the... _kneading_  was keeping his body almost dangerously relaxed, he was ashamed to be seen like this. He felt like his cheeks were burning, as well as... somewhere _else_ ; he struggled again with how he felt like he couldn't _move_  except how Anduin bade it, it given how tightly his neck was being gripped. He wanted this to stop, for his sake, for Anduin's sake, but he didn't know how. He let out a shuddering breath as the older Prince leaned up and groaned _obscenely_  loudly into his ear.

Suddenly - as if startled by his own noise - Anduin paused, then pushed himself away sharply, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. "Ngh."  
"Anduin Wrynn," Wrathion commanded a little unsteadily, "I need to know what on this wretched Titan-forsaken planet is going on."

"For the love of _Azeroth_  please order me to stop kissing you!" Anduin snarled softly, sweat beading on his brow as he forced the words out. They seemed thick, like tar, seeping slowly from his mouth as if they'd been spilled from a secure container. He kept his eyes shut, his head turned as far away as he could.  
"Stop, then! Stop _touching_  me!" He tried not to seem as increasingly panicked as he was. " _What_  is going **_on_**?"  
Anduin pulled back, looked up to Wrathion so he could _explain_  - but then something flashed in his eyes. He lurched forward once more, roughly turned Wrathion on the bed, and bit the back of his neck _hard_.

Wrathion _moaned_  in a distinctly un-prince-like fashion and froze under Anduin, his hands against the bed by his chest where he'd braced himself and his legs apart from how he'd sprawled as he was turned. He could only pray that Anduin would somehow knock the mind control spell out of place again - it was so _obvious_ , he should have known. How ridiculous...

Anduin growled around Wrathion, then once again rocked his hips up against his backside. "I w--" Then, once again, and much to Wrathion's relief, his words cut off and he shuddered. "Nnh, Light..." Mercifully for both of them, he was able to force himself to let go of Wrathion's neck.

Wrathion whimpered and, not wanting a third round of pinning, took the moment of respite to shift into his whelp form and actively hide in the rafters.

"Explain," he squeaked, from hidden. "Explain! Now! Before I have my Blacktalons remove you! How do you know how to do that?!"  
"I don't _know_ ," Anduin sobbed weakly, sliding off the bed and shuddering. Just the sound of Wrathion's _voice_  was going straight to his cock, and it was _maddening_. "I don't know what's going on or what I'm _doing_!"

Wrathion took stock of the situation for a moment longer. "I'm going to call Right in here," he said in as measured a tone as he could, "and we're going to get to the bottom of this. Yes?"

Anduin nodded shakily. "Right, o- okay..." He grit his teeth and ground his forehead against the edge of the bed. It was starting to _hurt_ , being this far away from Wrathion, being this _aroused_.

It was a mercifully short time before Right clicked the door open. Wrathion had to use all of his willpower not to dart for the perceived safety of her shoulder, and risk gaining Anduin's... _attention_  again. For his part, Anduin slid down further and shivered, curling up on the floor. He didn't look up to Right as she entered - didn't do anything much of anything, in fact. He just whimpered through the pain.

"Prince Wrynn, what's happening?" The guard's voice was brusque.  
"I don't know," he sobs weakly. "I don't know what's going on!" He tipped his head back to stare up at the ceiling, as if it would somehow help. "It h- _hurts_!"

Wrathion cowered back in the eaves, staying out of sight, as Right spoke for him. "Do you need to be further away from His Majesty before you can think clearly?"  
"NO!" Anduin turned sharply to stare at her, eyes wide, _horrified_ , and he held a hand out as if to motion her to stand down. "No! Don't take him away from me!"

If nothing else, this extreme manner of attachment to one that Prince Wrynn had met less than a full day ago confirmed Wrathion's initial suspicions - that Anduin was under some kind of mind control. [We obviously can't let him stay here like this,] Wrathion commented to his guard, by the bloodgem they often used to communicate with. _But_ , he thought without transmitting it, _I don't want to send him away..._  [Could one of our mages look to determine where the spell focus is, if there is one?]  
[Yes,] Right replied. [I'll see it's done.]

Wrathion then spoke aloud to the older man - "Prince Wrynn, think clearly. Can you call the Light?"  
Anduin seemed, for a moment, genuinely grateful for this suggestion; he closed his eyes and leant back against the bed, shaking heavily. He took a few deep breaths and slowly began to relax.  
"Y- yes..."  
Right softly spoke to him. "Try to meditate, your Highness. The Light has mind-clearing properties. It should help you feel normal again."  
Anduin nodded shakily. It certainly _seemed_  to be helping him, and it seemed to be muting some of the pain, too.

"I don't... know what's happening," he shuddered out, "but it hurts. My whole body _hurts_  when I can't... get close to him." He shook heavily, almost looking as if he seized for a moment. "I'm... overcome by a... _painful_  desire to be with him."  
"But you aren't able to control yourself when you're by him?" Right replied. "I'm assuming keeping the two of you together to help you keep the pain away while we work to undo this isn't an option."  
"It- It really isn't..." He whimpered. "I don't know if- maybe if he leaves, it w-" He seizes _then_ , curling forward, with his arms wrapped around his stomach, and _screaming_  in pain.

Right didn't panic; Wrathion did, squeaking in whelp-like distress as he hopped down onto Right's shoulder like he wanted to before. Both of them watched for a long moment until Anduin slumped to the side; he lay, half-curled, on the floor, twitching occasionally in aftershocks of the pain. Wrathion stayed poised with his wings half-cocked, anxious that they'd _killed_  the _Prince of Stormwind_  - but  
slowly, steadily, Anduin relaxed, and a hoarse whisper fell from his lips.

"Onyxia..."

"I knew it," Wrathion muttered, under his breath. It was Right who spoke next - though judging by her turn of phrase, it was obviously a direct repetition of what Wrathion was asking her to say. "Your Highness, do you believe that sending agents to her lair may be beneficial in undoing whatever horror she's wrought on you?"  
"P- po- ssibly..." He shuddered again, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

Wrathion, perhaps against better judgement, risked hopping onto the floor & moving over to Anduin - he was ready to withdraw at the slightest sign of trouble. Honestly, he just wanted to make sure his aunt's meddling didn't _actually kill_  Anduin by way of Wrathion withholding contact - Light, Shadow, and everything in between knew her sorcery was _strong_  enough to do so, although Wrathion didn't know if it _would_.

Anduin smiled to Wrathion, gently, and reached out to touch him. He relaxed _immensely_  on making contact with the whelp's scales - but didn't seem inclined to really do anything.  
"Stay here?"

Right spoke for him again - "Agents are in the process of being dispatched. His Majesty wishes to know if you think it's safe for him to use his own voice again."  
"I don't really know," Anduin murmured. "It's worth a try... it doesn't seem to be doing much while he's like this." He stroked the back of his knuckles along Wrathion's spine; Wrathion didn't seem as calmed by the gesture as Anduin did, looking up at him nervously and occassionally shuffling his wings.

Finally, the dragon spoke again. "Well, ahh... I suppose there's only one way to judge."  
Anduin closed his eyes at the sound, seeming to relax heavily. "I think we're safe..."  
"Stable," Wrathion insisted, as Right quietly left the room. "We are stable. Not safe."  
Anduin considered, then nodded. "Stable."


	2. Discussion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated Mature. It contains discussion of, but no examples of, noncon; it contains no underage. It also contains partial mind control.

"... I must admit, I should have anticipated this better than I did." The guilt in Wrathion's voice was badly hidden.  
Anduin continued to stroke the tiny whelp's back. "Should you really have?"  
"Yes. I knew you were in my aunt's clutches for a long time. It makes sense she would have tried something like this. Trying to _rape_ us both is rather _extravagant_ , but... then, I understand it that she _was_ extravagant."

Anduin frowned, though his face was distant; thoughtful but hazy.  
"That's certainly something she would do..."  
"I hate her," Wrathion growled lowly, curling up by Anduin's side. "I _hate_  her."  
"I do, as well..." He winced as a weak shock of pain shudders through him. "Ngh..."  
"I wanted to meet you _properly_. I wanted to _impress_ you. And instead we're stuck with _this_. How will you ever see me as a proper Prince if you remember me frozen under you like a-- like--"

Anduin shuddered heavily at the memory and grits his teeth. "Don-- Don't."  
"... my apologies."  
He shivered and whined softly. "It's... alright. Just don't talk about... that sort of thing."

"Ugh. I hardly got to know what you _do_  like to talk about before the magic interfered..."  
"Mm... politics?" Anduin offered gently. "The Light. Magic?"  
"Ah, yes. Politics. I hear you have a rather _hands on_  approach to that, recently."  
Hands on. _Hands on_. Anduin tried not to think about that. "I've become more... proactive, you could say."  
"Almost getting yourself killed was a nice touch," Wrathion drawled.  
"I did what I had to do." He frowned. "I can't just _think_  to my guards like you can."  
"I'd apologise that you weren't born a dragon, except given the context I'm sure such a thing would seem rather odd to say."

Anduin laughed gently and nodded. "I understand what you mean," he rumbled. "It would certainly be a lovely way to communicate with my people."  
"I think I'd settle for you being able to communicate at _all_  at present," he grumbled, shifting his wings a little. Anduin's laugh was making him _feel things_  and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not; he wasn't sure if he wanted to let Anduin stay here after this was over. He supposed that was a decision for later.

"I think I'm doing a good job, right now..." Anduin frowned, making sure to keep his hand in contact with Wrathion. "I think it helps that you're in your whelp form, but... I just want to be _near you_  and to do everything you say. If you want me to have normal conversation, I think I can... I can do that."  
"Well, I want you to be able to act of your own free will again." Wrathion sighed smoke. "I don't like mind control unless it's being used for _good_  reasons."

Anduin snorted. "Name a _good_  time to use mind control."  
"I'd have said mind-controlling Garrosh to _not_  use the Divine Bell might have been a good start," Wrathion said, with a surprising degree of solemnity. "Or the spell I used to prevent my guardian from killing me when the Old Gods finally wrecked his mind. Hardly _mind_  control, more body control, but similar effect on his agency all the same..."

"I... I can understand that, I suppose," Anduin murmured. "Using that sort of spell on your guardian, that is. I can understand the defense of yourself or someone else." He looked away for a moment. "I don't know how well controlling Garrosh's mind would have gone."  
"Don't misunderstand, I had the man killed shortly after. There was nothing for it. I suppose finishing Garrosh off in the same manner might have saved a lot of people quite a bit of strife."  
Anduin frowned softly. "I understand your motivations, thus far, have been... to kill the last remaining members of the Black Dragonflight, because of their corruption." He rolled a shoulder in a lazy shrug. Honestly, it was regrettable that they couldn't be spared, but there was nothing to do. So many had lost their lives to the corruption... and it seemed uncleansable. "But if I had taken over Garrosh's mind at Emperor's Reach, I'd have had him brought in as a prisoner."  
Wrathion snickered. "Of course you would. You're too soft."

Anduin sighed roughly. He wished he was too soft, right about then. "It isn't softness," he murmured. "It wouldn't be right to just kill him outright. He deserves a trial. A hearing. But if a more pragmatic reason is what you want, he has information that could prove valuable."  
“Surely you could have a little root around during the mind control incident to the same end?" he grumped, evidently either choosing to ignore or simply unaware of the limitations of such a spell.

"E- excuse me?" The priest turned to stare at Wrathion, his eyes wide. "A little root around?"  
"In his mind, yes." The tiny whelp looked up at him, his expression on his little face relatively unreadable.  
"I..." He cringed a little. "I don't know if I can really do that... or that I would if I could. That's quite the invasion of privacy, don't you think?"  
"Well, yes, but he's a despicable dictator, isn't he?"  
"That doesn't mean I can just look around as I please!"  
"Why not?" Wrathion snorted. "If you could save more lives just by doing so, surely it would be an evil act not to?”

"It's not that simple..." Anduin frowned softly and tried to sit up, but the second he took his hand off of Wrathion, he seized and dropped back to the floor. His hand shot out to press against Wrathion's side again. "Ah..."  
Wrathion huffed at this, then clambered up, claws and all, Anduin's arm until he was resting against his neck. "There," he stated matter of factly.  
Anduin sighed gently and closed his eyes. Laying back on the floor with a warm dragon against his neck? Not bad. "Thank you..."

He sighed again, harsher. "Anyway, it isn't so simple as that. I should say that controlling his mind would be a fine way to take him in as prisoner, but..." He sighed. "I suppose if the alternative was torturing information out of him, I think I'd rather invade his privacy..."  
"Exactly. I never said it was simple, Anduin Wrynn, merely that I had a suggestion for a solution. Your skills are far more valuable than you realise, if only you had the commitment to use them..."  
"I don't like using the spell," he murmured. "It's invasive, and it feels... angry and... wrong."

Wrathion actually paused. "Perhaps at any other time I might have argued that such things were petty quibbles to have, but."  
"Have you ever seen shadow magic?" Anduin asked quietly, closing his eyes. "And Light magic?"  
"I can't say I have, no."

"The Light..." He held one hand up in the air and called some forth. It coiled around his fingers in thin, wispy ribbons, and a warm glow settled in his palm. "It's comforting. Warm and soothing. It looks like the sun on a clear day - it feels like the sun on a cloudy one. Even when casting offensively, it fills you with such a sense of sureness, of purpose..."

Wrathion couldn't help but shrink away from it, though he was careful to keep his tail pressed against Anduin's neck so's not to make him cry out again. He frowned, trying to think how to articulate what he wanted to say. "It feels... scrutinising."

Anduin let it disperse at Wrathion's discomfort. "Scrutinising?" He frowned softly. "I've heard some describe it like that. I never felt that way. It always gave me a sense of protection, but... it's all how you look at it."

He smiled gently to Wrathion, then held up his other hand. "The Shadow... on the other hand..." He hesitated.  
"Be careful it shan't feed the spell," Wrathion interrupted, aware that it was the same type of magic used to fuel similar ones.  
"It's alright..." Anduin answered softly, before calling to some of the Shadow. He disliked it immensely, especially because he had to focus on some very strongly negative emotions to get it to come to him. Anger, hatred, disgust all welled up in his breast and shifted to his hand, where the thick, globular Shadow magic coalesced. It clung to his fingers like tar and writhed around like worms in his hands.

Wrathion seemed... more at ease, if not exactly comfortable. He would have, in his mortal form, frowned; in his whelp form, he twitched his tail instead (his paw still firmly against Anduin's skin).

"It's... dark," Anduin muttered. "And thick, and cold. It feels like trying to breathe in air too humid for human lungs." He clenched his fist, watched as the shadow wove through his fingers to swarm around his fist, clinging and detaching, slinking around to another part of his hand where it latched on. "Like sinking in a tar pit in the cold..." He sighed. "But some don't mind it. They see in it power... And some think we should never use the Holy Light to harm, and so they use the Shadow, because that's just what it was meant to do..."

"I hate it," Wrathion said, though he sounded more thoughtful than anything else. He regarded the magic as one might regard a particularly impressive volcano - impressive, powerful, but not something one wanted to be anywhere near.

Anduin let it fade away, and watched as it did. Unlike the Light - which faded like a gentle whisper, with its presence steadily lessening until it was no longer visible - the Shadow dispersed in clumps, detaching from his hand and disappearing. Anduin thought they might have made a small pop sound, as they looked like sick bubbles bursting in the air.

"How curious," Wrathion said quietly. "I can see why a being such as yourself wouldn't like to use magic like that, for certain. Are you afraid that it might influence you?"  
"Sort of..." Anduin sighed. "It's an easy answer. I'm afraid I would fall back on it. Rely on it. I'm afraid having to constantly dredge up terrible thoughts to summon it would... set a new norm."

Wrathion decided not to say that it sounded like something he _himself_  would be particularly adept at summoning. "You fear you aren't strong enough; that you'd be overwhelmed. A fear that plagues many of us, I've little doubt."  
Anduin nodded slowly. "It's an important fear to have..." He looked his hand over, then lowered it back to his side. "But one that's important to overcome, at times."

They paused for a while in contemplative silence. Then, suddenly, Wrathion stiffened - then consciously attempted to still his anxiously twitching tail. He's just received some particularly bad news by the bloodgem, but he'd rather keep Anduin distracted than bother him with it. That said, it was distracting enough to leave an awkward silence while he tried to remember what he'd been about to say before.

Anduin frowned softly at Wrathion's fidgeting, finding himself abruptly aware that something was wrong.  
"Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice pitched high with urgency.  
Wrathion supposed there was no point in lying. "Everything's going to take a little longer than we anticipated."  
"Wh... Why?"  
"There's no spell focus."

Anduin stared at Wrathion for a very long time.  
"No spell focus."  
"No." Wrathion stared back.  
"What..." Anduin swallowed. "What does that... mean?"

"It means there is no quick fix to this. At least, ahh... no, let me correct myself. No clean fix to this."  
"What do you mean, _no clean fix_!?" He sat up sharply, staring down at the little whelp.  
Wrathion's wings and crests flared out in a threat display. "Don't shout at me!"

Immediately Anduin flinched back, looking scolded. Tears actually find his eyes.  
"I- I'm sorry, Sire."  
Wrathion's demeanour shifted just as quickly when he remembered what he's just done. "I-- I didn't-- ah--" he forced himself to take a breath, "I am sorry, Anduin..."  
"N- no! I'm sorry, my lord. I didn't mean to displease you!" Anduin whined softly and cringed, struggling internally with his own reaction. "Is there anything you need? I can get it for you!"  
"I want you to calm," the dragon said carefully, trying his best to keep his tone comforting - though it was hardly an emotion he'd had to convey very often thus far. "Just calm yourself."

The older prince nodded shakily and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and leaning back to calm himself. "Anything for you..."  
"Don't talk like that," Wrathion gently insisted, looking away. "Please. I just want to get this over with so we can interact normally."

Anduin - or rather, the spell intercepting his perceptions - seemed to have difficulty processing that. He frowned deeply and tilted his head. "What is normally? How do you want me to act?"  
"Just-- not subservient," Wrathion fretted, "I don't want a slave, Anduin Wrynn, I wanted to meet a young man who I could speak to and maybe find a little common ground with."  
"But..." Anduin winced as the thoughts in his head conflicted. "But that's what I am for you, I..."

He shuddered, then shook his head and brought a hand to his face, covering his eyes and trying to relax. He dropped back to the floor. "Ngh... Th-... thank you."  
"I'm--" Wrathion looked nauseated by the display of the spell's power, even in his whelp form, but he pressed on. "Prince Wrynn, are you able to discuss the manner of the spell with me?"  
"I don't really know... Might as well try."

"There's no spell focus, but my agents are retrieving an object which would allow me to directly interface with your mind in a way similar to how we discussed presently. I know it's... difficult to expect you to be able to consent to such a procedure. Yet I would ask you regardless: would you allow it, if it meant we could free you?"  
Anduin considered that for a long moment. "I... I suppose I don't really have another choice," he murmured. "We clearly need to get rid of this spell."

"I wish we did have a choice," Wrathion said honestly. "Alright, then. I'll do it. I only hope I manage to minimise any damage caused by the spell's resistance to removal..."


	3. Desperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated Explicit. It contains explicit noncon, but no underage. It also contains mind control, blindfolding, and coerced consent.

Anduin sighed shakily. "When and how are you going to do this?"  
"As soon as possible. No offense, but I can't rightly spend days at once perched on your shoulder for fear of killing you simply out of fulfilling my duties to my people."  
The older prince laughed softly. "Do we need to wait for Blacktalons, or must I just look into your eyes?"  
"The Blacktalons have the necessary object, I'm afraid. I'm not secretly evil like you," Wrathion quipped back with a smirk. "I don't have the power to do such things intrinsically."

"Secretly evil!?" Anduin snapped, looking up to glare at him. That was, as it happened, a mistake. His gaze immediately softened and he smiled serenely - adoringly - to the dragon.  
"I was-- put your hand back up," he frowned.  
Anduin smiled warmly and reached up to stroke under Wrathion's chin. "Mm... I'm sorry." He leaned back and covered his eyes, happy to do as Wrathion said.

Almost immediately, he relaxed. "Ugh..."  
"You need to remember to not do that," he grumbled. "Why not use that ridiculous headband of yours as a blindfold?"  
"I..." Anduin kept his eyes closed as he shuffled to do just that, pulling the soft fabric over his eyes, which he then opened, as a test. He couldn't see anything, so... that was probably enough. "I happen to like my headband, by the way." As a final test, he turned to face Wrathion, and he smiled. "That works."

"Good. Now maybe we can try to hold conversations like normal beings," Wrathion huffed, ignoring the warmth in his chest from having been tickled under the chin like that. "As I was saying: I was joking about the evil thing."  
"I- I see..." Anduin sighed and rested his hands on the whelp's back. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I reacted the way I..." He sighed. "Well, I suppose I do know why I reacted the way I did. The lack of visual contact seems to lessen the effects of the spell, and the physical contact lessens the pain from it, at least..." Despite what he'd just said, he let out a quiet groan of pain, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his other hand.  
Then, it was Wrathion's turn to sigh. He clambered into Anduin's lap like he would Left or Right's, keeping to the front by his knees and inelegantly draping off the sides anything that didn't fit onto his legs.

"I wonder if there isn't something else we can do to dampen it as well. We should be waiting under an hour, at the very least."  
"I'm not sure. It..." Anduin squirmed a little, very uncomfortable. Honestly, he could think of one thing that might help, but it was... not the best idea. He ground his teeth - his erection was starting to hurt, to actually ache from his want of contact. Ridiculous... horrible spell.

"Nnnghh..."  
"What-- what's wrong?" If Wrathion was landed with what seemed to be a temporary human pet, he may as well have moved to take care of it.  
"Nothing..." Anduin mumbled, turning his face away. "Nothing you need to worry about."  
"...alright." Wrathion hesitated - not wanting to seem like he was _forcing_  Anduin to accept help, because he wasn't, but equally not wanting the human prince to feel abandoned. "Do... you need anything... from me?"  
Anduin shuddered bodily at the question and lifted his head, only to drop it back again. He was silent for a stretch of time before answering. "No."  
"Auuhh-- aahlright." He sounded as dreadfully uncertain as he _was_ , despite trying to school as much of it from his tone as he could.

"I just... I just need to find a way to, uh... calm down."  
"... w--" Wrathion's gaze flicked over Anduin's lap, then he looked up at his face, a little taken aback. "Uh, do-- you need me to... avert my senses?"  
"Avert your senses?" He frowned. "What..." He stilled suddenly as realisation dawned; a massive shudder ripped through him and he _squirmed_. "Aahh... no."  
"Uh-- then, what..?" Wrathion said, sounding forlorn. "I want to _help_ , you're in _pain_ , I--"  
"Just let me- Let me try to think of something that'll have it go away, a- alright?" He sincerely doubted that would be possible, by now.  
"F-Fine. Alright."

After a long stretch of silence and forcibly calm breathing, Anduin whimpered, brought the heels of his hands up to press against his eyes, and he bent his knees, curling as well as he could for the time being. Wrathion slid off to sit beside him instead of on top; Anduin's right leg fell straight after a moment, as he hadn't the energy to bother keeping it up.

"...are you sure you're alright?" asked Wrathion, quietly.  
"I'm fine, I'm just... just having trouble."  
"And there's nothing I can do to help."  
Anduin let out a louder whine and kicked his leg. "Stop suggesting that!"  
"I'm sorry!" He cut off the rest of his response in his throat, remembering the effect it would have on the man.

It only took a moment before Anduin cringed and squirmed about again. "Nnh... Ugh, Light... nothing's working!"  
"I'm sorry," Wrathion repeated, with an edge of sarcasm this time.  
"I- I don't... want to ask you to help, b- but..."  
"Well, what can I do to facilitate the removal of the problem?"  
The air changed. Anduin swallowed again, shuddered gently. "U- uh..."

"Honestly, just--" again he cut himself off, thinking how to reword himself in a way which wouldn't, maybe, be taken as a command. "...whichever way you require my presence."  
Anduin's breathing picked up, quick and shaky, and he squirmed. "I- nnhh..." He shifted about. "Yes, can you... av-... avert your senses?" Oh Light, how fucking mortifying.

"...yes, I can." The dragon hopped up Anduin's arm once again to curl up against his neck, his face buried between Anduin's shoulder and the bed.

Anduin sighed gently and habitually glanced back at Wrathion, despite the blindfold. This was going to be... so awkward. He moved to undo his belt and push his tabard aside. Hopefully it wouldn't take long at all, with how hard he was...

Wrathion stubbornly buried his nose and ears in the back of Anduin's tabard and closed his eyes. This whole situation was absurd. If you'd told him this time yesterday that such a thing would happen, he'd have laughed and dismissed it as some fantasy of a lurid mind - and he supposed it was, in a way, having been constructed by his aunt.

The older prince swallowed softly as he pulled himself - gently, nervously - from his trousers and underwear. He grit his teeth and tipped his head back, giving a bit of a jolt as he wrapped his hand around himself. "Ahh..." It was one hell of a relief, and even the few dry strokes he gave himself felt... amazing. He furrowed his brows and tipped his head forward, exhaling sharply as he started to move his hand more steadily. Small noises fell from his lips; little moans and keens for more.

It was entirely unlike him. He was never this sensitive or this... needy? Loud? Never ANY of those things, and he hated it. Hated himself for them, at the same time he reveled in them.

Wrathion clung on with claws; the last thing he wanted was to interrupt Anduin with the sudden agonising pain he'd no doubt feel if the dragon fell off, breaking their contact with one another. And he did do his best to ignore the... noises, the raised pulse-- no, _ignore_. The point was to _ignore_. He buried his face a little further below Anduin's tabard; tried not to think too much about how his scent was surrounding him, his pulse against Wrathion's scales-- Gods. This entire experience was _maddening_ , and he hated his aunt ever the more for it. Even in his whelp form - incapable of physical arousal as it was, at least at his current age - his imagination was getting the better of him.

He tried to stop the whine he felt welling up in his throat - but it slipped out, and he regretted it immediately. Aside from anything else, it was embarrassing - but his worries that Anduin's spell might interpret it oddly somehow were made founded only a moment later when Anduin stilled suddenly, tensing up.

"Wr- Wrathion..."

Wrathion almost tried to bury himself under Anduin's clothing entirely out of shame, but steadied himself, forcing himself to own up to what he'd done. "I'm... sorry," he said quietly.  
"I n-..." Anduin took a sharp breath. "I need your help."  
"Y--" he pauses and breathes, "you do? Don't lie to me," he cautiously commanded. He didn't like this, he didn't like _any_  of this, but if Anduin was telling him this was the only way to put him out of his pain...  
"I'm not." He shuddered. "I can't... get enough on my own."  
"And you... _want_  me to help?"  
"I need you to help!" he snarled, surprisingly sharp. "It doesn't matter what I _want_  at this point, I _need_  you do to it!"

Wrathion hesitated for one moment longer, feeling sick, then slunk reluctantly down Anduin's arm. He shifted forms so that he was holding his wrist in his hand when he was done, skin against skin - his eyes glowed fiercely, his lips parted and his cheeks deep red. Not that Anduin could see him. "What-- ahh, where..."

"I don't care," he growled, hitting his head back against the bed again. "I really, really don't care what you do." He let go of himself and braced his hand on the floor, squirming and shuddering, blindfold still on. "Just do _something_."

Swallowing, Wrathion took... _it_  gently in one hand. He'd... handled them before, but never really very directly. Usually _he_  was the one being serviced, as it were, and his equipment wasn't exactly... similar in, well. Any regard. Anduin gasped softly and fell limply back against the bed, almost before Wrathion had touched him; he spread his legs and pushed up into Wrathion's hand. Glancing up at Anduin's face as the older prince gasped needily, Wrathion bit his lip and began to squeeze along the length of it, watching his reactions so's to hone his skill as rapidly as possible.

Wrathion, to his credit, _was_  a very quick learner - he figured out within moments that watching Anduin's face and overall body language was going to be useless considering the spell, so he switched to watching his genitals specifically for signs of approval. And... well... staring at them didn't exactly do wonders for his _own_  decorum, which he was still desperately trying to maintain.

Anduin shuddered and squirmed heavily, bucking up into Wrathion's hand. He dug his nails into the floor and groaned heavily. "I'm- nn!" Light, every single touch - no matter how good or bad - was all-consuming in how wonderful it felt. "Light keep going!"

Wrathion put his spare hand to his mouth to keep his breathing quiet while he watched Anduin writhe and beg and-- ohh, Gods... he'd wanted this, he had to admit, just not this way. Never this way. Nausea welled up in his stomach again as he remembered the circumstance of this. He assured himself - or tried to, anyway - that his efforts to do this properly and... well, not following in his father's footsteps... had unlocked him the possibility of repeating it consensually at a later date, but he'd see. It was up to Anduin, after all, who he didn't know terribly well just yet. With his lip bitten against all of his mixed emotions, he ran his thumb over Anduin's tip and jerked his hand over his length at just the right pace.

It didn't take Anduin very long at all, and under any other circumstance he would be mortified of that. However, his thoughts were overtaken and destroyed by the powerful orgasm that hit him. He arched off the side of the bed, grinding his head back into the quilts as he snarled loudly, coming hard enough that, were he not leaning it back, he might have hit himself in the face.

Wrathion was not doing well on the keeping quiet front today, he admitted to himself, as another unbidden moan slipped past his parted lips at the sight. He quickly silenced himself, as appalled by himself as Anduin no doubt was; he sharply withdrew his hand from Anduin's cock while sliding the other onto his wrist again. Would be rather pointless if they were to get this far only for Wrathion to hurt him by withholding contact, after all. "Are, ahhh... is... that... a little better..?"

Anduin all but flopped back against the bed, breathing heavily and shakily. It took him a while to contain himself enough that he could speak. He swallowed dryly. "Yeah..."  
"You, uh, there's. Ah. Mess. I can hide behind your back," Wrathion offers awkwardly  
"Mnh... What?" Anduin shifted a little bit and shivered. "What d'you mean?"  
"From, uh-- there's-- s-some on your neck," he mumbled, trying to keep from being audibly aroused at the thought of cleaning it up himself, "s--some from. Uh. The. Your."

"Do you have s- something to... clean it off with?"  
"--- --I could have someone fetch something?"  
"Just need a... cloth or something?"  
"Y--Yeah, I'll-- hang on," he fidgets and produces something, pushing it into Anduin's hand then moving to sit behind him enough that he could lift the blindfold to look at himself without seeing the dragon. He wasn't able to _concentrate_  enough to shift back to his whelp form, but there were workarounds, he supposed.

Anduin moved as soon as the dragon was out of the way. He wiped the cum off of his neck, then pushed his headband up so he could get the rest of him cleaned up, tucking himself back away in his pants when he was done. He was shaking a bit, and his head occasionally dipped, as if he was nodding off.

Wrathion forced himself to avert his eyes. The spell orb would be here soon, he reminded himself; he needed to get back on track. But the way Anduin trembled under his hand (now gingerly on his shoulder) and the entire mental image just wouldn't leave him.

Once Anduin was cleaned up and tucked away, he closed his eyes and leaned to the side, onto Wrathion. "Mmm... Thank you."

Wrathion blushed deeply, forgetting for a moment that it was because of the spell - and feeling awful as soon as he remembered that it was. Still, he stayed where he was; supporting the dozing Anduin, but not reciprocating the affectionate edge to his touch.


	4. The Mission Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated Teen. It contains no noncon and no underage. It does contain mentions of ongoing mind control, and mild body horror.

The Blacktalons arrived soon after. Wrathion had mercifully managed to drift off to half-sleep by then; Right helped bring him back around with a drink of cold juice while Left explained the object they'd retrieved, held in her hands in thick leather gloves. Anduin, for his part, was still sleeping deeply - Wrathion shook his shoulder, prompting a grunt. Thankfully, he was still blindfolded.

"Mmnn?"  
"Oh, uh--" Wrathion put his hand back on Anduin's wrist. "Good morning, my sleepy Prince," he drawled, acting as though they were still indifferent at best to each other (even though Left had long ago clocked what they'd done while they were out, and Right was likely catching on quickly). "Ready for your 'operation', as it were?"

"Ah... I suppose," he murmured. "What do I need to do?" Truth be told, he was apprehensive, but he wanted to get it over with. Wrathion, feeling his pulse quicken under his fingers, squeezed his wrist lightly in reassurance.

"There's the issue of mental resistances," Right explained. "So if you relax and truly allow him in, not just superficially due to the spell, it should be faster. It's a pretty complex incantation from what we've read, so it might take him a while, but none of the rest of us have enough mana to do what it takes anyway. We did check," she added.   
Anduin nodded slowly. "Alright." He leaned his head back and sighed. "I'll do my best."   
  
"One condition," Left grunted.   
"What?" Anduin turned his head toward her voice; he looked very suddenly guarded, and he almost bared his teeth. Almost. Was he to owe some debt, then? One they would hold him to?  
"I wrote a draft of a letter for your father. In the event things go wrong. You can look it over." Paper was pushed into Anduin’s free hand, and he frowned, somewhat stunned. "For you to sign."

Anduin tilted his head down before he pushed the headband up and off of his eyes; careful not to accidentally catch sight of the dragon, lest they ruin the whole process. He read over the letter carefully - it explained the situation with the spell in brief, stating that if it was being read, then Anduin has been somehow harmed; it was essentially a consent form for the procedure which, if signed, would implore King Wrynn to take sympathy and not order charges of treason on those involved with the rescue effort. It was worded surprisingly in character, as if it were written by Anduin himself.

It was… creepy, as if Anduin was reading a letter that he never remembered writing. Still, he couldn’t fault their efficiency and thoroughness… although he had to wonder just how they knew his particular manner of writing.

Rather than think too far into it, Anduin nodded and extended a hand for something to write with. His voice was soft and distant as he made his request, to which Left responded by handing him a short-cropped quil and a bottle of ink, which she opened for him. Very carefully - his motions slow and deliberate - Anduin signed the paper, quick and neat.

"Thank you." Left put the letter out to dry, then took up her usual position guarding the door.

Anduin crossed his legs, sitting as if to meditate, and rested his hands on his knees. He couldn't help but glance to Wrathion - who was pouting like a petulant child, apparently not immediately understanding something Right was trying to explain to him - and Anduin was almost to his feet before he pulled his own headband back down.

Wrathion jerked back, then pursed his lips and relaxed. "Ah, yes. Do. Keep that on, if you would."  
Anduin flopped back to the floor, shaking from what a close call that was. "Yes, I'm... I'm sorry..." His cheeks were burning, and he was sure the tips of his ears had gone red. He sighed, took a deep breath, and called out to the Light. It steadied his breathing and soothed his thoughts, allowing him a moment to meditate and relax.

“It’s for your own sanity,” Wrathion commented offhandedly, as if he was standing a room away instead of right by Anduin’s side. He was close enough that the young Prince could reach out and touch him, if he felt he needed the physical contact - and as it was, Anduin had one hand placed on Wrathion’s calf. The Black Prince was doing his best to ignore as he listened carefully to Right’s instructions.

It didn’t take her too long to finish up, and when she did, Wrathion had no further questions. The whole affair seemed simple enough, assuming Anduin actually cooperated; and the confounding little Alliance Prince had seemed astonishingly cooperative so far.

He turned to Anduin. “Alright. Are… you ready, young Prince?”  
"As ready as I'll ever be..." he murmured softly, then frowned. "Young Prince? I'm older than you..." It was somewhat petulant, but he smiled as he said it, relaxed and easy.  
Wrathion huffed and pouted, although privately he appreciated the attempt to break the tension. "You are still young. But, I believe we shall begin, then."

Kneeling before Anduin with the spell orb in both hands, Wrathion made sure he got comfortable - crossed his legs and shuffled until he knew he’d be able to concentrate, then adjusted his posture so he’d stay upright when his body lost its consciousness. Then, he closed his eyes, chanting quietly in Draconic - slowly starting to tap into the ancient magic in the glass-like orb.

Anduin tried not to be alarmed when he felt a gentle but steadily growing pressure at the base of his skull. He breathed deeply, ignoring the sickly dark glow he could feel surrounding Wrathion. It curled around Anduin’s wrists where his hands were resting on the dragon’s knees. He tried to ignore that, too - he eventually closed his eyes under the blindfold, attempting to shut out the growing sense of dread while still allowing in the dragon.

The spell was sluggish and haunting in Wrathion’s veins, but he worked it like he was born to do so. He unlocked Anduin's mind with ease; it was easier than he’d thought… but it helped that Anduin was consciously relaxing, taking down his defenses to let him in.

Wrathion finished the verbal incantation - and he felt himself being pulled out of his body, towards Anduin. Everything went very bright for a moment, far too bright for him to see even if he’d opened his eyes - then, all at once, he wasn’t in the Veiled Stair any longer.

Wrathion found himself standing in the center of a large and circular room. The ceiling was impossibly high, and the entire room was crafted from stone - mostly bricks that were light in color, very nearly white. Eight blue marble pillars stood mightily, evenly spaced around the room. At the top and base, they were capped off by more of the almost-white stone, with the image of a lion’s face carved into it. Around the edge of the floor, in two concentric circles, ran bands of tile of a paler blue and a starker white - laid in what (in his opinion) looked to be a very uninspired pattern, formed solely of diamonds and rectangles.

Wrathion recognized the room - somewhat - from descriptions he’d heard from his Alliance champions. He was standing in some representation of Stormwind’s throne room, although it was clearly different in a few key ways.

On all sides of him were doors - five of them, to be exact. They were imposingly grand and carved out of what looked to be a light-colored, sturdy wood. Labels hung above each of them: Memory, Emotion, Knowledge, The Holy Light, Meditation. A pair of guards flanked each entrance - they unnerved Wrathion a little, their presences nowhere near as vibrant as a real person’s would be. Made sense, given they were merely figments of Anduin’s mind.

For that moment, though, he was paying them no real mind. Standing in front of him and holding his attention was Stormwind’s throne. Leading up to it were large, rounded steps, radiating out in a circle from between two doors. Although the seat itself was a rather simple chair, it was covered in plush blue cushions, and either side of it were two golden lions - four in total. On the backs of those lion statues, platforms extended to either side, lined with a carpet that matched the seat.

Behind the throne rose a stone column, holding intricate golden carvings that mirrored each other either side of blue stained glass. The gold seemed to depict a sword wreathed in abstract shapes that Wrathion thought might have been representative of the Holy Light; and the stained glass it surrounded was set in a rather unoriginal - in his most humble opinion - geometric pattern. The decorations rose the length of the column until they all terminated, stopping just below a disk. Stone around gold around glass, all in a circle around yet more glass in the shape of Stormwind's - the Alliance's - sigil: a lion’s head, glaring protectively forward. On either side of this were two large banners, each of which descended the length of the column to the floor - blue again, with lighter blue abstract designs.

In front of that throne were three people. Yet again, there were “guards” flanking the throne; they wore simple metal armour that completely covered the face, along with Stormwind’s tabard.  They each held one sword, and one shield - the latter also emblazoned with Stormwind’s lion.

Between them was Anduin Wrynn himself, sitting on Stormwind’s throne. His legs were crossed and he was half-reclined, as if showing off his power.

He was dressed in considerably more finery than what he’d been wearing in the physical world, at least at the time they’d left it. That wasn’t saying much - during his travels in Pandaria, all of his clothing had been torn up and doused in mud. However, before Wrathion now, in that strange version of Stormwind, Anduin’s clothing was decidedly magnificent.

It wasn’t hugely different from what his normal clothes must have looked like, although it was all clearly made out of a higher quality fabric; one made for its appearance rather than its durability in the wild. Wrathion - with his eyes keen, even in the spiritual world - could spy intricate designs woven into the fabric, giving it considerably more depth than just plain whites and blues. The Gold of the Lion tabard even seemed to shine. In addition to the “regular” outfit, Anduin wore a red cape, trimmed in white fur. A coronet sat atop his head, brilliant and gold in colour - it almost blended in with his hair - and while it wasn’t overly extravagant or intricate, it certainly showed off his title, proudly, as the Prince of Stormwind.

The Prince regarded the dragon calmly. Wrathion wore no such bearings of his station; all of the false bravado of his mortal form's outfit was gone in his spiritual appearance. In fact, so was almost all of his human appearance. He still stood as a human would - two legs, two arms, and a head atop his torso - but he looked more like a wingéd elemental than anything else. His skin was glowing like half-cooled lava, with bright molten magma curling under it like veins or the patterning of scales. There were cracks in his form, too - great schisms encircling his limbs and slicing across his torso, from which the vivid force under his scales threatened to break free. They looked like they would hurt, but they didn’t seem to bother him. His horns were long and sharp, sweeping back around his pointed face; his tail was curled elegantly around his waist, and his vibrant red wings were poised gracefully behind himself, helping him keep his balance on clawed, digitigrade feet.

Despite his unusual appearance, Anduin looked down at Wrathion with a pleasant, warm, and welcoming smile.  
"Hello."  
"Greetings," the dragon responded, his bearing regal. "Do you know why I am here, Prince Anduin?"

"I do." He nodded his head slightly to Wrathion, then rose from the throne. His coronet glistened some, as he moved - which struck Wrathion as only slightly odd, as he couldn’t spot a source of the light in the room.  "You want to dig deeper so you can find the remnants of this spell. I, for one, do not blame you." He descended the stairs, his warm smile never faltering. "I also thank you."

"Does the spell affect you here, or are we speaking freely?"  
"We are speaking freely," he replied, letting his stance shift to a more serious nature than kind smiles and gentle looks would allow. "Where do you need to go?"  
"Wherever Onyxia’s influence lingers," Wrathion said matter-of-factly, looking to the doors.  
Anduin actually snorted quietly at Wrathion's words. Where didn't her influence linger?

Frowning, the dragon tapped a clawed foot on the stone floor. A pulse of deep blood-red light spread out from it, going beyond the doors surrounding the central room. Anduin watched idly as five-- no, seven reflections of sickly black-purple danced back along the ground in response to the dragon’s call - each one an indication of a spell he hadn’t even known existed. They fizzled out before they touched either Anduin or Wrathion's feet.

"Which would be... there."  
"Everywhere, then." Anduin sighed softly.  
"It seems so. My apologies, Prince Wrynn. I had hoped this would be a short visit, but I suppose I knew it would not be.”

He bowed his head a little. “May we begin?"

Anduin nodded lightly to him, and motioned around to the doors. “The Holy Light, Meditation, Memory, Emotion, and Knowledge,” he began, as if reciting a long-rehearsed speech. Despite that, he seemed apprehensive... but they both knew he didn’t have much of a choice.

“We may begin wherever you’d like to visit, first.”  
"Let's begin with what you're most comfortable showing me.”

Anduin glanced around. That was a bit of a revealing question, wasn't it? "As you wish," he murmured - and strode toward his Meditation room. 


	5. The Meditation Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated Teen. It contains no noncon and no underage. It does contain mentions of child abuse, and mild body horror.

The guards opened the doors for them; Anduin bid Wrathion enter before him, then followed closely behind.

The room itself was quiet; peaceful. It looked to be another room in the keep, and the ocean could be heard clearly in the distance. For a human, at least - Wrathion didn’t agree - the temperature in the room was pleasantly warm. Comfortable. A soft light filtered through the only window, onto a cushion in the center of the room; it was a deep blue, textured with a filigreed pattern and lined with gold string and tassels. There was nothing else in the room to be seen - at first glance, at least.

Despite what was clearly intended to be a soothing atmosphere, Wrathion didn't feel at ease here. He felt out of place. Perhaps he ought to have expected that the thing which made this human creature most comfortable would instead make  _him_ feel clumsy and messy and huge. But he caught himself drifting apart before it caused any damage, pressing his spirit back together and refocusing on his task.

One of these things was not the same as the rest of the room - just as he didn’t belong here, neither did it. He looked for anything hauntingly familiar; anything which seemed like he knew it, because everything else in this room was as foreign to him as the taste of Anduin Wrynn's skin. He moved past Anduin - who stood by, not particularly wanting to move anything around - to take a closer look at the pillow.

And there, indeed, was a shadow that didn’t look like it was being cast by the pillow itself. Where the pillow’s shadows were tranquil and soft, just like everything else here, this was the kind of shadow which made your eyes twinkle to look at. And as Wrathion scrutinised it, it even seemed to writhe - the longer he looked, the more uncomfortable it made him to regard.

Anduin seemed to feel it too, because when Wrathion glanced back at him for a moment, he had his arms wrapped around his middle. The two exchanged a glance; Wrathion jerked his gaze back to the pillow, frightened suddenly that the shadow might have taken off and moved somewhere else, but it seemed relatively inert.

“I think it’s frightened,” Wrathion smirked. “Of what you’ve got in here.”

“What does it have to be frightened of?” Anduin asked, unthinking, as he regarded the little shadow. “This room is nothing but healing.”

“That’s just it,” Wrathion said, grinning wider. “It’s designed to stop anything like this from ever existing. Once it’s faced with it, it doesn’t know what to do.”

“Why should it be frightened, then?” He stood up a bit straighter and moved his arms, so he was resting his hands on his hips and squaring his shoulders, rather than curling in on himself. “If it’s built to destroy this, shouldn’t it be angry or vicious?”

“Clearly, it isn’t strong enough to stand up to the amount of Light in the room.” Wrathion made a quick gesture with one hand, a far cry from his usual grand, sweeping movements. “It’s a tiny speck of sand trying to stand up to a tidal wave, Anduin Wrynn.” He hesitated. “And it knows it.”

Seeing no reason to stall further, Wrathion approached the shadow. "Come, what’s mine," he spoke, clearly and - this time - with all the authority of a king. It wasn’t hard to feel larger than a speck of sand, after all. "Your time here is done. Return to my blood."

The spell fragment had no power to resist Wrathion’s calling - and yet the very moment it touched his spectral palm, both Princes were overcome with a rush of vision which seemed to surround them.

Anduin had been four years old. And in this moment both Princes saw themselves in the position of this four-year-old Anduin; this Anduin crouched in one of Stormwind Keep’s courtyards, peacefully tracing his chubby fingers through the surface of the pond which made the centrepiece of this particular garden. Birds sang in the oak tree which dominated the space; a butterfly floated past on a spring breeze, settling onto a blade of grass by the edge of the pond. The young Anduin’s heart had sung out at the peaceful tranquillity of the situation.

And then all at once hands which felt like claws were grasping his waist; pulling him away from the pond and the birdsong, and the butterfly so gracefully spiralled on its way. A voice hissed in his ear. “ _There’s no time for this nonsense_ ,” Katrana Prestor had said. “ _Back inside_.”

And then they were back in the meditation room.

To his credit, Anduin didn’t seem that shaken. When Wrathion looked back to him, again, he noted that the young Prince's cape and coronet were gone - lending his outfit a more casual air.

That was, until he realised that Wrathion seemed to have been shown the memory as well. They made eye contact, Anduin’s expression one of nervous questioning; Wrathion dropped his gaze. There was an awkward quiet between them as the dragon struggled to decide whether to say anything about what he’d seen.

Mercifully, Anduin broke the silence with a change of subject. “So, uh… how does that work?”  
“What?” Wrathion blinked, still a little disorientated - both by the spell fragment now rattling around in the repository over his chest; and the brightness of the room, which somehow seemed greater to him now than it had before.

“The…” Anduin gestured, vaguely, at the place in Wrathion’s chest where the spell shard now lay dormant. It was visible through whatever membrane surrounded Wrathion’s spirit in place of a skin - darkly malicious, but mercifully dormant; somewhat shrouding the glow from the dragon’s beating heart.

“Oh. Well. It’s taking advantage of the same mechanism that put us in this awkward situation to begin with, really,” Wrathion said, clasping his fingers together in front of himself. “The spell falls under my dominion, so I suppose it oughtn’t to take much effort to recall it once we have it, ah. Pinned down.”

"It isn't..." Anduin glanced between the fragment and Wrathion's face a few times, before settling on the latter. "...hurting you? Is it?"

The dragon blinked, taken aback by that question. "I'm unsure whether that's of consequence, Anduin Wrynn. But for what it's worth, I don't believe it's hurting me any more than it was hurting you while left to its own devices. We'll dispose of it properly once we have the entire spell."  
"Alright... good." The tips of Anduin's ears dusted the faintest pink, and he turned away. "Well done. By the way."

"You needn't praise me." Perhaps in another context, the compliment might have made him glow; but now, in this room filled with light and love, Wrathion could only feel small and monstrous.

"Show me where you would like to look next."

**Author's Note:**

> This story was adapted from RP logs between:  
> \- Ao3 user p_3a/tumblr user alacritious-eidolon, as Wrathion and Right  
> \- Ao3 user luckofthedreads/tumblr user many-anduin-wrynns, as Anduin


End file.
